


the house carpenter

by thereigatesquire



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Snapshots, also it got a bit sad closer to the end, and the humour vs angst levels vary wildly, brian and aurora have a heart-to-heart, each bit focuses on a different mech, lyfrassir edda is mentioned but they're dead, raphaella is kind of scary, warnings for the last chapter but they're detailed in the notes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereigatesquire/pseuds/thereigatesquire
Summary: (“If anyone messes with the provisions,” Ashes warned, “you’re dead on the spot.” “Didn’t you burn Jonny’s rations just last week?” “That’s not important.”)Each Mech has a different relationship with intimacy and emotions.
Relationships: (assumed) - Relationship, Ivy Alexandria/Raphaella la Cognizi, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina, polymechs, uhh i guess explicitly
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	1. nastya and jonny

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably sadder than the summary made it sound. i also realized in the course of writing this that my normal style isn't conducive to a good fic, so i tried to do ~interesting~ things with each pov. let me know what you think!
> 
> oh, and the title doesn't mean anything. it's just the title of the song that "iphis" is based off of and it's quite spectacular

Nastya doesn’t participate in their fleshly antics. A few of them don’t really either, but Nastya tries to know as little as she can about the love lives of her crewmates, and they try to know as little as they can about hers.

Oh, but the things they miss out on! Nastya knows nothing they do can compare to the affections of a living, changing starship. They’ll never know Aurora’s electric kisses, or her tentacled embraces, or her digital humming. They’ll never appreciate her clockwork intricacies, or her laser-edged glasswork, or her regulating tubes that pipe the same quicksilver lifesource that flows through Nastya’s veins. They share that blood sometimes.

But never let it be said Nastya doesn’t love her crew. She remembers how cold Cyberian winters were, and how much colder her family and tutor were. How could she not then appreciate the warmth of the hand that skittishly, tentatively touched her shoulder as she awakened on that operating table? How could she not accept that awkward, protective embrace when her every cell felt full of liquid nitrogen? Jonny is her older brother, even if they kill each other over every minor annoyance. And really, doesn’t that make them even truer siblings?

But she doesn’t know anything about the love lives of her fellow Mechanisms. She’d tell you to bug Jonny instead.

* * *

Jonny has better things to do than talk about  _ intimacy _ . He’d rather shoot Tim, or shoot Marius, or, hell, shoot himself. Yeah, he has sex sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he has to be soft and  _ emotional _ about it.

He’s getting better at that though. Brian has been talking with him, with Marius chiming in whenever he gets the chance. The main obstacle to confronting his inner whatever-the-hell-is-in-there is _her_. _Her_ , who everyone graciously ignores mentioning for his sake. For his weakness. But he’s ready to move past that. Eternity gives you ample time for self-reflection, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.

Jonny storms onto the bridge one day, eyes wilder and gait angrier than usual. “Brian!” he shouts, “Brian! Where are you, you lump of brass?”

Brian spins slowly around in the pilot’s chair in which he is always sitting. He raises a single eyebrow at Jonny’s duress. “Are the jibes really necessary?”

“Yeah, they are, pal.” Jonny plops down on the ground in front of Brian, flinging his legs out and kicking his heels against the floor annoyingly. He doesn’t speak.

Brian waits for a few minutes, then asks: “What do you need?”

“Who said I needed anything?”

“We’re not playing this game right now. Either you tell me what you want properly, or I throw you out of the bridge.”

“I thought you were Nice Brian right now?”

Brian gives a long-suffering sigh. “We’ve been over this Jonny. There is no ‘Nice Brian’. If you mean Means-Justify-Ends, then yes I am, and I insist on us having a proper conversation.”

Jonny sits there for a moment, clearly ignoring Brian. Just as Brian starts to spin his chair back around, Jonny shoots out a hand and grabs his trouser hem. “I hate  _ her _ ,” he says, as if that would make any sense to Brian at all.

Luckily (maybe thanks to Brian’s prophetic powers, but probably just through being in close proximity to a person for millenia), it does. “I know. Why now, though?”

“I don’t very damn well know! Can’t I just hate her?” 

Brian sighs and gestures to the bridge door, but Jonny isn’t ready to leave yet.

“I-I…” Jonny starts. Brian, as the designated comforter aboard the ship (to hell with whatever pseudo-psychological nonsense Marius spouts), sees Jonny’s honest attempts and grips one of his hands.

“I-I couldn’t deal with Marius laying his head on my chest,” Jonny says softly.

Brian is floored by Jonny’s openness, but he stifles it well. “Because that’s what  _ she  _ did?”

“Yeah, when she’d check my mechanism” He goes silent, then adds. “It would be easier if I actually hated her, but I don’t. Not really.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean I  _ liked  _ her. She got me off New Texas. She showed me the stars, even if that means I can never stop seeing them.”

Brian doesn’t speak, for he has nothing to add. Jonny lays there, gazing out Aurora’s front shield to the cosmos beyond. He laughs bitterly, “Christ, you know that actually helped, you piece of tin? At least until the next crisis.”

“That’s all we seem to get, isn’t it: tragedies, crises, and awful attempts at humor?”

Jonny’s dark chuckle follows him as he gets up off the floor and stomps from the bridge, gun already drawn. Brian follows him with his eyes, and knows he’ll be okay, whatever that looks like for insane space pirates. He catches sight of Ashes passing through one of the corridors beyond, carrying a massive container of gasoline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying some stuff out with writing styles and pov, so if the sections seem oddly different, that's why
> 
> also i think the mechs invoke the higher powers differently, so if you see a "Christ" somewhere and a "gods" somewhere else, that's why :)


	2. ashes, raph, and ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am not worthy to write for the great ashes o'reilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unethical raph rights! also she is a doctor because i say so.
> 
> sorry for combining raphaella and ivy's sections but i had no ideas.
> 
> ALSO sorry for the short length today but again: i had no ideas.

Plenty of people had done favours for Ashes: all of them unimportant, immemorable, selfish. That’s what happens when you come collecting and the poor sods have nothing to give, besides themselves. Mickey said to take what they offer, so Ashes did.

Burning the place had been a relief, a kind of catharsis. Forget petty mob politics: Ashes wanted to create  _ real  _ messes. They lit the match and never looked back. 

Except it looked like their time with little human issues wasn’t over. Early on in their time aboard the starship, they’d stumbled across a bizarre scene. Jonny, the violent one who’d shot them the instant they made eye contact, was curled around the small one --gods, what was her name?-- Nastya! the Cyberian ex-princess, in what could only be called an embrace. Ashes hid themselves behind the edge of the doorway and watched. Nastya was shivering like a drunk, while Jonny rubbed her arms and draped a wool coat over her. Ashes could see Jonny whisper things in her ear that made her smile softly, until Ashes couldn’t watch anymore. They walked quietly away from the tableau, feeling  _ emotions  _ that they didn’t think they could put a name to. It was sad to say, but in their whole life, they hadn’t seen one act of kindness as genuine as that. They went to blow up some of their provisions with the nastiest chemicals they could find.

* * *

Raphaella’s early days aboard the ship were a nightmare for the crew. Apparently, she had absolutely no morals, and everything was done in the name of science. The others each had their own agendas, their own lines they wouldn’t cross, but not Raph. She’d poison Nastya, steal metal organs from Brian, and methodologically torture Jonny. But it wasn’t until she’d backed a frightened, weaponless, conspicuously trouser-less Tim into a corner that someone intervened: Ivy.

“Raphaella la Cognizi!” she had commanded in her best do-not-touch-my-archives voice, “Come with me, immediately.” Raph instantly obliged and Ivy marched her down to the library, leaving Tim still huddled in the corner.

Ivy sat her down on a stool and stood back, arms crossed. “Dr. Raphaella la Cognizi, I am 100 per-cent sure you do not act out of malice, but we still need to have a discussion regarding your behaviour.”

Raph looked puzzled. “What do you mean? Are you talking about my research?”

“I am referencing your complete disregard for the well-being of the others aboard this starship. Listen: in the past week you have been a part of the crew, you have caused Brian to malfunction twenty-one times, you have destroyed seventy-six per-cent of Ashes’ supplies, and you have caused Nastya to retreat into the vents on a daily basis. The Mechanisms are used to violence and conflict, but your appalling lack of consideration is unacceptable.”

Raph looked shocked. “Oh! Am I causing distress? I was just trying to do my best as science officer!”

Ivy ran Raphaella’s facial expressions through her processors, and she appeared to be truthful. Ivy sighed. “I believe you meant no harm, but the reality is that morals aboard this ship are...convoluted, to say the least. Yes, we are incapable of permanent termination, and yes, we often extirpate each other for ‘fun’, but we still have certain idiosyncrasies and sensitivities. We also, fundamentally, care about each other.”

Raph was quiet for a moment, looking remorseful for the first time since she’d randomly appeared out of the airlock. She nodded. “I think I get it. It’s a compound symbiotic system, isn’t it? You all support and balance and take from the others, don’t you?”

Ivy smiled, “You are now a part of that system too, Doctor. You have a file in the 'crewmates' box in the archives.”

Raphaella shot up off the stool. “There are files about the crew?! I had no idea! I simply  _ must  _ update my literature review!” She turned and flew deeper into the archives.

Ivy laughed and started to restack the books Raph had knocked over in her flight. Ivy might not remember her past, but she knew that she could never have cared for anyone as much as she did her current crewmates. She smiled as Marius walked by the doors, paused, and came to help her restack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls come talk to me @still-busy-being-mortal


	3. marius and brian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the first part: ok marius' messy thought processes are intentional. also i purposefully avoided looking up how chloroform works to make it more accurate :)
> 
> for the second part: i think brian is very introverted and gets stuck in his head way too much, so i tried to portray that. ALSO mum!Aurora rights

Marius didn’t want to think about intimacy, thank you very much  _ (avoidance behaviour) _ . He messed around with his crewmates plenty, for your information  _ (justification coupled with self-esteem inflation) _ . And if he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain lover he’d taken, that was his own problem  _ (flashback) _ .

Lyfrassir Edda had been the most beautiful creature Marius had ever met. And, more than that, they were dryly humorous, solemn, and professional: everything Marius wasn’t. They had matched, hand-and-glove.

The Mechanisms who were in Midgardian jail saw Lyf quite often. Marius knew that Lyf knew that he liked them, and spent days straight explaining his theory to Raph and Ivy. Ivy ignored him, re-reading a book in her mind, while Raph constantly interrupted him to explain why his “theory” wasn’t actually a theory but a flimsy, unrigorous hypothesis.

One day --one blessed, glorious day that Marius thought may have been a fever dream-- Lyf summoned Marius from the cell. They walked with him, and told him their worries, their concerns about their job and the state of the Midgard police. They told him about the new project they’d just been assigned, and about the stresses of dealing with bureaucracy. And they said they knew that Marius knew that they knew that he liked them. And that they liked him too. It was everything Marius could have ever wanted, and if they ended up having sex later? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

Of course, Lyf chloroformed him after that, probably thinking it would erase his memory of the past twelve hours, but Marius’s mechanized healing didn’t allow that, and he kept the memory.

He kept it, and he cherished it, even if --gods-- even if he couldn’t cope with it. So he tried to think about Lyfrassir Edda and the Yggdrasil System as little as possible  _ (insufficient coping mechanisms) _ . He usually failed; once, he’d stormed out of the room after Brian tucked his hair behind his ear exactly like Lyf had.

* * *

Brian knew how to connect with every member of the crew. You might chalk it up to his powers of prophecy, but really, he was just an empathetic person. He knew how to make his mechanical problems appear as complex as possible to cheer Nastya up; he was a robust specimen for Raphealla’s experiments; he even indulged Marius’ awful medical babble, even throwing in some real knowledge from time to time. The one person he wasn’t good at dealing with? Himself.

You’d think after millennia of being alive, you could adjust to anything. Turns out it doesn’t work like that. Brian’s moral conundrums had always been his downfall, and immortality was no protection. Was he still himself? How were his thoughts his own if his brain was just circuitry and wiring? Did he look the same? Did he have any way of finding out?

Brian spent most of his time alone on the bridge, staring out at the stars from whence he came. He enjoyed plotting their course, but there was no real reason for him to be there at all; the Aurora could pilot herself just fine. No, he thought it was appropriate for him to sit alone, pretending to be the statue he probably was… 

...That sounded more dramatic than he meant it to --the truth was, from what he could remember, he had never been good at  _ being  _ with other people. Sure, he could fix them, or comfort them, or listen to them, but he couldn’t  _ exist _ with them,  _ as _ one of them. And if he couldn’t do it when was actually a person, why should he try now?

Brain was shaken from his incessant stream of thought by a series of high-pitched beeps. Unintelligible to most, his ears of metal and wire instantly translated the sounds to words. He smiled, “Hello Aurora.”

“Brian, my dear, why do you hurt yourself so?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right, dear? When is the last time you can actually recall inputting coordinates into my navigational controls?”

Brain thought. Aurora laughed --a buzzy, electrical sound. “Exactly, honey. I just read where you want me to go. You are the pilot, after all.”

“That’s fascinating, and slightly ethically disturbing.”

“Oh my sweet Drumbot. You simply must stop thinking in these circles!” Brian started to speak, but Aurora cut him off. “You’re worried about your personhood, are you not? About your right to call yourself the same person you were pre-mechanization?” 

Brian nodded.

“Bless your heart, honey. Don’t you know none of you are the same?”

“It’s not comparable! I’m entir--”

“Brian, my Brian. Physical form has no meaning for the vast majority of this universe. The hardware on which we run is _nothing_ compared with our software. And you, my dear, have  _ quite  _ the processing speed.”

“I--I don’t understand, Aurora. The  _ only  _ part of me that’s  _ me  _ is my heart, and that doesn’t even move blood anymore. Any way you look at it, I’m not the same being.”

Aurora sighs, the whir of a fan belt motor. “How about I put it this way: some things are tied to their parts. I, for example, am always defined by my usefulness, by my ability to house and protect and transport you all.” Brian started to interrupt, but Aurora cut him off. “And I am pleased by that. As much as I enjoy talking with you and Nastya and the Toy Soldier, my main goal has always been your safety and wellbeing. But other things are defined by what they contribute to the universe, regardless of their form. Think of a song, or a story. It doesn’t matter by which vehicle it is conveyed; it leaves its mark no matter what. You and the crew are like that. It doesn’t matter how much you change or transform: you are always defined by what you do  _ right now _ , by what you put out into the universe at this specific moment in time. And you, my dear Brian, do a great deal for your crew.”

Brian started to respond, but the Aurora pushed his chair out of the bridge with one weird, wiry-fleshy tentacle. “Tut tut, Drumbot. You cannot argue ethics and philosophy with me today. You need to go interact with your crew. I believe the Toy Soldier is cooking again, and the rest of the Mechanisms are hoping to stir the situation into a catastrophe.

Brian smiled gently at the starship, trying to convey all of his understanding and gratitude into a single moment, and then marched away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another headcanon: aurora can only communicate directly with nastya, brian, and the toy soldier


	4. the toy soldier and tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the toy soldier tries its best, and tim deals with trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so this one got away from me a bit. tim's section is a bit weird in that it's more of its own story? also warnings for implied rape/non-con
> 
> oh also i have no effing clue about the timeline. tim is "newly" mechanized but raph and marius are there so just roll with it.
> 
> time to play spot the references!

The Toy Soldier knew it didn’t understand the intricacies of its crewmates’ emotions, but it knew it loved them. It knew it would do anything for them. And it knew that they all loved it in return, loved it more than anyone had in England _[NAV ID: Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Virgo Supercluster]_.

To be sure the crew understood it, it tried to be as clear as possible about what it was feeling, and how much it appreciated its friends!

“I Like Your Belts Today, Jonny!” it said.

“That Was A Very Nice Explosion, Ashes!” it said.

“That Looks Like A Good Book, Ivy!” it said.

It also performed actions it thought its friends would like. It did the most chores. It made crafts. It cooked!

Its friends didn’t always appreciate its efforts, though. Jonny scowled at its compliments. Ashes burnt its food. Tim blanched and shot it point-blank when it offered to show him what it had learned as a nymph.

But it knew that they cared. It knew when Jonny clapped it on the shoulder after a performance. It knew when Nastya complimented its intricate joints and mechanics. It knew when Tim talked about British things with it.

* * *

The Mechanisms were concerned about Tim. It had been some decades since they’d mechanized him, so he was still practically a baby, but nevertheless, they were concerned. He wasn’t standoff-ish any longer, and he engaged in all of the crew’s violent games. He was quick to fire, but no more so than Jonny. He avoided their Polymech nights like the plague, but that wasn’t a problem either. The concern arose from his unpredictable reactions (“heavily trauma-coded,” according to Marius).

If Brian unexpectedly laid a heavy hand on Tim’s shoulder, he’d flinch. If Nastya made some kind of vulgar joke about her and Aurora, he’d get a distant, troubled look in his eyes. If Marius’ laugh slipped into his more native accent, Tim would visibly panic and flee the room. The Mechs all noticed this, and decided to take action.

They met in the largest of the food storage pods, right off the galley (“If anyone messes with the provisions,” Ashes warned, “you’re dead on the spot.” “Didn’t you burn Jonny’s rations just last week?” “That’s not important.”)

“Aurora, love, could you warn us if Tim comes this way?” Nastya asked. Aurora hummed her assent.

“Listen up,” Jonny said from his seat atop a large barrel, “I think we can all agree that Gunpowder Tim’s actions have been...weird, to say the least.” All of them nodded and shared some of their observations.

“He Didn’t Want To See My Skills As A Nymph!” the Toy Soldier contributed.

“Some people _are_ ace,” Ivy said, sitting cross-legged in the bin of fruit.

“We know,” Ashes answered, “but this ain't about that. This is about how distressed Gunpowder gets when he catches Ivy and Raph kissing, or why he can’t stand it when Nastya and Aurora talk all lovey with each other.

(“That last part is understandable,” Jonny said. Nastya threw a potato at him.)

“Maybe he’s homophobic?” Raph added, perched atop the grain sacks.

“I wonder…” Marius said. “The place he came from  _ was  _ rather backwards…”

Brian sighed. “Guys, I think it’s PTSD. The medical signs are pretty clear.” He said this last bit pointed at Marius, who skillfully ignored him.

The room grew quiet as they each contemplated this. Then they all started talking at once.

“Damn, we should talk to him--”

“--Is that really a good idea though? We might want to come up with a clearer methodology--”

“--How did I not see this? I’ve got to get my medical license renewed--”

“--You don’t have a medical license!--”

“--Bozhe moi, why are people so complicated?--

“AAAAAATTENTION!” the Toy Soldier cried. The Mechs looked up at it as it climbed onto a large cheese wheel. “Chaps, We Need To Rally Together. There’s A Fellow Soldier In Need!”

At that moment, Aurora chimed a warning signal. Jonny sprang up and resumed his role as ~~captain~~ first mate. “TS is right. We gotta do something. Uhh, anyone got a plan?”

“Knife to the throat?” asked Marius.

“Gun to the back?” said Ashes.

“Poison in his cup?” suggested Raphaella.

“You’re all horrible,” said Nastya.

Brian rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to  _ kill  _ him. Sometimes people have conversations  _ without _ dying first, you know.” He stood up and walked to the doorway of the store room before turning around. “But I do think we should all go together. There’s less of a chance he’ll kill  _ all  _ of us.” (“But still a pretty good chance,” Ashes grumbled.)

The eight Mechs clambered up and peered out the doorway together. One by one, they filed out and walked slowly over to Tim, who was sitting on the kitchen counter, cleaning a blunderbuss. 

“So, uh, hey!” Jonny started.

Tim just sat there, staring skeptically and sullenly at the crew who had decided, for some reason, to approach him all at once.

Brain sighed. “Tim, we’ve been wanting to talk with you.”

“Why did you all come out of the pantry together?”

Marius chimed in: “We’ve just noticed some things, Tim, that we were concerned about.”

Tim rolled his eyes, causing his mechanism to make a sound like a camera refocusing. “‘Course  _ you _ did, Marius.”

“No, really!” said Raphaella, “I have evidence! Look!” She turned and kissed Ivy passionately. Tim’s breath hitched oddly and he turned his head, and not in an aroused manner.

He spoke again, voice a bit higher than before, “I don’t know what you mean.”

" _What_ are you talking about??" Jonny started, "That was a really damn weird react--"

“We just want to know what’s going on, Tim,” Brian said gently, cutting Jonny off. He laid a hand on Tim’s knee, causing the latter to jump up, breathing quickly. 

“I-I can’t do this now,” Tim said, starting to rush from the kitchen.

“Well, at least he didn’t shoot anyone,” Marius muttered. At that moment, three shots rang out from the doorway, fired without sight as Tim fled. Ashes, Raph, and Jonny fell dead. “Dammit.” Marius said.

And so no progress was made for a few years. That is, until the day Tim stumbled into one of their Polymechs nights by accident. When he saw what was happening --with Marius, Raph, Ashes, TS, Jonny, and Brian sprawled out in various states of undress across some floor cushions, and Ivy and Nastya sitting to the side, reading-- he immediately turned and started to leave. Aurora closed the door.

He tensed for a second before breathing slowly and turning back around, looking up to the ceiling. “I didn’t know you all were doing this tonight,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “And in  _ my  _ armoury.”

“We know,” Jonny laughed.

“Nastya, tell Aurora to open the door.”

“Nope.” she said, not looking up from her book.

They stayed there silent for a few moments, Tim refusing to look anywhere beside the ceiling. Ivy broke the silence: “If you do not want to join in on all  _ that  _ nonsense,” she said, gesturing to the Mechs on the cushions, “I understand completely, but you could always sit here with us.” She slid over, patting the floor beside her and Nastya.

Tim wasn’t doing so well. “I-I just...can’t.” he said, his voice betraying his duress.

The Mechs on the cushions slowly started to redress themselves, sitting in a loose semicircle. “Could you tell us why?” Marius asked lightly.

Tim instinctually drew his gun, before --in a rare moment of self-awareness-- reconsidering, and putting it back in its holster. He sat down, drawing his knees to his chest. He tried to speak, but couldn’t quite form the words. Brian asked: “Do you want Aurora to help? She can read minds, you know.” Tim nodded, and Aurora buzzed her assent.

Nastya started, straight to the point as usual: “Do you have an issue with intimacy?”

Tim nodded, and Aurora hummed. “Yes’,” Brian translated.

“Alright. Do you have a problem with us getting intimate with each other?” Marius asked.

Aurora beeped. “‘No, but he can’t stand to see it,’” Brian said. He asked his own question: “Do you think this is trauma-related?”

Aurora buzzed. “‘Yes’,” Nastya said.

A look of simultaneous realisation and concern crossed Jonny’s face. “Is-is it related to the Moon War?”

Tim buried his head tighter into his arms. Aurora whirred. “‘Yes’,” the Toy Soldier announced.

“Oh Christ,” Jonny breathed. “I think I know what this is about.” The other Mechs looked at him. “You see, the Kaiser was a screwed-up, entirely revolting fellow, to put it mildly. He tried all sorts of things when he executed  _ me _ , but not--- not… But he didn’t find me as ‘pretty’ as he found Tim.”

Tim was shaking. Aurora emitted a long series of beeps and buzzes. Brian inhaled sharply. “My God. He said Jonny’s right...that the song we sing isn’t entirely accurate...that the Kaiser did... _ things _ before ordering the execution in the throne room.”

The Mechs gasped, but they didn’t know what to say.

The Toy Soldier spoke first. “Lad, If It Is Alright, Could I Give You A Hug?”

Tim didn’t respond for a moment, still trembling. Then he nodded. The Toy Soldier quietly moved beside him and reached one wooden arm around his shoulders.

The Aurora hummed. “He said he’d like it if the rest of us joined as well.” Nastya translated.

One by one, the Mechs made their way over to where Tim was sitting. They each gently added themselves into the huddle, with Aurora contributing one tentacle-cable. And they stayed like that for a while.

The Mechs weren’t good at communication. An eternity to skirt problems and die instead of dealing with things meant avoidance was the default. But they tried. They made progress where they could, and they tried their best to look out for one another. Because that’s what families do, isn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok the last section was inspired by some fic i read, but i don't remember what it was exactly. it was a bit too, uh, heated for my ace tastes, but it brought up the idea of the moon kaiser assaulting gpt and i could NOT get the plot bunny out of my head. so voila.
> 
> (also lol this whole fic was supposed to be less about relationships as a whole and more about a, uh, *specific* kind of intimacy but it literally pains me to write the word s*x so that idea was quickly scrapped)
> 
> last thing: i had the whole fic planned out, so if you go back you'll see a few times gpt showed signs of trauma in the earlier chapters :)
> 
> comments are muchhhh appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy my tumblr is @still-busy-being-mortal


End file.
